


Shipping Fiasco

by randomdrabbles



Category: Psych
Genre: I am so sorry for this, M/M, Rated teen for use of language, Shassie, Shot!Shawn, hurt!shawn, shot, worried!Lassiter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomdrabbles/pseuds/randomdrabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlton Lassiter and Shawn Spencer work a case that gets Shawn shot. They are stuck with no way out. Will Shawn survive? Or die from his injuries.  This is my very first fic so please be kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shipping Fiasco

“Dammit!” Lassiter yelled as he slammed his fist against the wall of the crate they were stuck in.

“Don’t blame yourself, Lassie.” He heard Spencer say from behind him. That stupid, good-for-nothing ‘psychic’ was the one to actually get them stuck in the shipping container in the first place. _If only that ass had listened when he told him to stay put._ If he had stayed put, there would be someone on the outside of the container that could call for help.

“Oh, believe me. I am definitely the one not to blame here Spencer,” he said as he rested his head against the cold metal. He could faintly hear the seagulls from outside, but he knew there was no one around to hear them if they screamed. The loading dock was closed for the next three weeks and if there had been anyone around they would have already reported the gunshots. If that was the case, the police should be here within a few hours. “Why couldn’t you stay in the car like I told you?” Instead of a reply, a faint cough and stunted breathing was all that could be heard.

“Now you decide to be quiet? Out of ev—“ Lassiter spun around and saw the psychic leaning against the back wall with a hand to his abdomen. He looked toward the young man’s hand, which was cupping his side – blood dripping through his fingers. “Spencer, why didn’t you say anything?” He rushed to his side and reached his hand to cover Shawn’s bleeding side. _Why couldn’t O’Hara be here instead of me. She is much better at these situations than I am._

“Wasn’t– my– choice—” Shawn gasped through clenched teeth. “I would never choose to be quiet.” Shawn clenched his eyes shut as a wave of pain hit him. Lassiter guided him to the floor.

_That was for sure_ , Lassiter thought as he started to check Spencer’s wound, _the day he shuts up voluntarily is the day I buy a lottery ticket_. The wound didn’t seem as though the bullet should have hit any major organs, but it was likely he could bleed to death before help arrived. Lassiter was worried, while he didn’t particularly enjoy the psychics antics, he didn’t want to have Spencer bleeding out on his watch.

“Keep breathing, Shawn. I’m going to try and find a way out.” He stood up and scanned the shipping container they were in. Finding nothing since it was an empty container, Lassiter began looking at the door – trying to see if there was a way to get them opened and get Shawn out.

“There is no– no way Lassie,” Shawn said through gasps of air, “if there were I— I would have found them by now.”

“With your ‘psychic-ness’?” Lassiter asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. While it may be true that he had seen Spencer do many things through his career he still didn’t believe him.

“No, Lasstacular. With – With my amazing attention to detail.” The brown haired man shot back. From his position on the floor at the back of the crate he could see everything in the container which consisted of Lassiter. “When we—we first got in here… the only way out is – is the door or those small vents.”

Lassiter returned to the side of the small man, who was beginning to look pale. The blood loss must have been getting to him. Especially if he had finally admitted he was a fraud. If it had been in another circumstance Lassiter might have been overjoyed, but with the very real possibility of Spencer dying on him, Lassiter could only feel fear.

“Shawn, stay with me. You are not allowed to die on me.” He took his suit coat off and threw it over Spencer’s other side and then removed his tie to press on the wound. He thought about losing his favorite tie for only a millisecond before balling it up and moving Shawn’s hand and replacing it with the blue tie. The blood was beginning to slow, and Lassiter hoped it would suffice.

“Aye Aye, Cap’n.” Spencer said with a laugh turned cough. “Wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, Lassie.” Shawn cracked a pained smile.

“Spencer, you are a pain in the ass.” Lassiter said as he lifted the tie a little to view the wound. If someone didn’t come and let them out of this godforsaken container soon, he was going shoot whichever one of the men it was that had shot Spencer with every gun in his house, even the one in the hi-fi. “Shouldn’t Guster be wondering where you are?”

The young man thought for a moment. He took a deep breath, “Yeah, actually. I told Gus that – that I should only be gone about an hour – about an hour and a – a half ago.” Spencer’s face twisted in pain and he let out a strangled gasp as Lassiter accidentally pressed a little too hard on the wound.

“You might not actually bleed to death.” Lassiter was relieved. The entire time they were stuck and Lassiter knew Shawn was injured he had been terrified. More terrified than any of the times he had been shot at. It was in that moment Lassiter realized something for himself.

“Oh, come on, Lassie,” Spencer said, staring into the blue eyes of the older man. His hazel eyes looking slightly unfocused because of the blood loss. “You—you know that I – I can never die. I am Superman. Does that make you Lois?”

“I swear if you weren’t injured I would beat you to a pulp, Spencer.” Lassiter said with a straight face, although internally he was glowing. He shook his head to clear it and grabbed for Spencer’s hand place it on the wound so he could see if he could see out of the vent.

“Woah, Lassifrass, if you wanna hold my hand…” Spencer said, his head bobbing a bit. Lassiter placed Spencer’s hands on the tie and just hoped to God his hand would be enough pressure on the wound for a few minutes.

Lassiter checked the vents but they were too high up for him to see much except the sky. He stood there for a moment trying to see if he could hear anything other than the birds he heard earlier. Hearing nothing but the birds, he retreated back to the young man who was breathing shallowly.

_I swear if Guster and O’Hara don’t get here soon Spencer is going to die._  Lassiter put more pressure on the wound. The blood was barely trickling out anymore. Either it was good or Spencer was almost out of blood. _Oh God, what if he does die._

“Spencer. Shawn, listen to me,” Lassiter said to the still man’s body. He hadn’t moved except for the shallow breathing, “You better be listening because I will not be repeating myself.” Lassiter took a shaky breath. “If you die I will be losing one of my closest friends I have acquired. I don’t know if I would be able to do my job half as well without you there pestering me day in and day out. Your incessant chatter actually leads to justice, occasionally.“ Lassiter paused and checked to see if there was any change in Shawn’s breathing before continuing, “I will deny all of this if you can hear me or remember, but while I may not like you most of the time, I do love you.”

Lassiter stopped speaking and just listened. The birds were still squawking and Shawn’s breathing was still way too shallow for comfort. He searched the man’s face for any sign of his word’s registering. Shawn’s face remained unchanged, strangely peaceful and oddly quiet. Lassiter never imagined he would see Shawn not bouncing around and in constant motion.

Suddenly throughout the ruckus Lassiter heard a new sound that wasn’t birds or dock sounds, but voices. He jumped up and rushed towards the vent, pausing to make sure he heard correctly.

“Hey! We’re in here! O’Hara! Guster!” Lassiter yelled. He continued shouting until sounds moved to the crate they were in. He heard someone trying to open the lock on the outside. Rushing back to the unconscious psychic on the floor he checked Spencer’s pulse and found it had weakened even more.

Suddenly, the shipping crate was bathed in blinding light.

....................

Lassiter was sitting at the side of Spencer’s hospital bed. It had been two days and he still hadn’t woken up. He was beginning to get worried. The doctors had said Shawn had lost too much blood. They removed the bullet and gave him blood transfusions.

He laid his head down on Shawn’s bed. If only he had made sure Shawn was safe in the car.

Henry had left a few minutes ago to run home and shower. He hadn’t left since his son had been brought in, but Lassiter had convinced him to run home with the promise of not leaving Spencer’s side until Henry got back and to call him the moment he woke up. _If—If he woke up._

Lassiter closed his eyes. He recalled all of the stupid things Spencer had done to purposefully piss him off. With his head on the bed, He felt it the moment when Shawn moved. It was such a small movement he thought he imagined it.

“Spencer? Spencer you listen to me. I know you moved.” Lassiter said with a steely voice. Watching the young man’s face as slowly regained consciousness. Eventually after what felt like years he opened his eyes and blinked against the harsh lights in the room.

“Lassie? What—“ was all Shawn got out before he was enveloped in a bone crushing hug from the head detective of the SBPD. “Can’t – Breathe – Lassie.”

Lassiter regained his composure and let the other man go, still keeping a grip on his arm – as if he needed to maintain contact to make sure he was really awake.

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel as if Gus decided to tap dance all over my abdomen carrying three elephants.” Shawn looked at Lassiter as if he was seeing him for the first time – or as if he was waking up from a two-day nap. “I got shot.”

Lassiter smiled a small smile at the bluntness of his words, “Yes, do you remember what happened after that?” he asked, with a small moment of hesitancy, worried Shawn would remember what he said and freak out.

Shawn closed his eyes, trying to remember everything that had happened. “I remember being locked in that Shipping box with you. You gave me your jacket and tie.”

Lassiter waited for anything else, but Shawn didn’t continue. “Spencer?”

Shawn’s eyes popped open and stared directly into Lassiter’s. “You called me Shawn.”

“Actually I called you Spencer. Do I need to get the doctor in here to check your hearing?”

“No, not now. In the crate. You called me Shawn. Multiple times.”

Lassiter thought back to their time in that hellhole. _Crap, I did call him that._ “Well, I thought you were dying.”

Shawn flashed a golden smile which shouldn’t have been possible on someone who just woke up from a mini coma. “You love me.”  
_God damn it,_ Lassiter thought. “I have no idea what you are talking about Spencer.” Spencer’s grin widened, if such a thing was possible. “But I do recall saying I would beat you to a pulp.”

“Calm down, Lassikins, your secret is safe with me.” Shawn says as he checks the wires in his arms from his position laying down. He saw Lassiter’s hand still resting on his wrist and was comforted by it. “Plus, I’m technically still injured. You said you would only beat me to a pulp if I wasn’t injured.”

“You won’t stay injured for long. Once your blood count is back to normal I just have to wait the few weeks until your stitches are out and then you are a free target.” Lassiter said without any real malice in his voice. He was just too happy to see Shawn back to his old self. “Crap, I need to call your father. He left to shower and will be pissed if I don’t call him ASAP.”

Lassiter stood up to leave, keeping his eyes on Shawn as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket to call the elder Spencer. He only took his eyes off of Shawn right before he turned around and started to dial as he walked out of the room.

“Lassie?”

Lassiter spun around, catching the grin that was still plastered to the younger man’s face.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. If you make it through could you please leave me some suggestions on how I could improve my writing? I hope you enjoyed the Shassie. I know it was faint, but I didn't want to overshoot on my first fic.


End file.
